


Out of the Shadows

by freezingstars



Series: Music Oneshots [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, But mostly it's elmer/race, Depersonalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Spralmer - Freeform, Spralmer at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:16:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezingstars/pseuds/freezingstars
Summary: Elmer is having a bad day and depersonalization sucks. Luckily his boyfriend is there for him.(Apparently I can't write summaries for the life of me)((I don't own any of these characters))





	Out of the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Out of the shadows; morning is breaking, and home is you.  
> -You Will Be Found, Dear Evan Hansen
> 
> I put on a playlist with a ton of musicals and this was the first song that played
> 
>  
> 
> Also this is my first work so please be nice!

Elmer was tired. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up under no less than four blankets, headphones on, blocking the world out. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to do any of those things. He sat on the couch, squeezed between the armrest and the two boys laying on top of him. The noise coming from the tv in front of them was drowned out by the wordless chatter of their friend group’s monthly get-together.   
Usually, Elmer was one of the loudest voices there.   
Usually, he was in the center of the group, talking everyone’s ear off, loving the loud, chaotic vibe.   
Usually, Elmer wasn’t hiding relatively to the side, wishing that the clock would strike a reasonable hour make a lame excuse about needing sleep so he could slink away to the guest bedroom that he and his boyfriends always took on these sleepovers.   
Earlier, he had a moment of internal panic when Race asked if he was okay, but he easily sidestepped by answering with the stress of work, family, and AP classes. Nobody needed to know that he wasn’t having a good day, and even though it’d been years since he’d really hidden his current feelings, the skill hadn’t abandoned him.   
“Elmer,” a loud, chaotic voice laced with a drop of concern came from on top of him. “Leave him be, he has a unit test in calc tomorrow.”  
“But it’s important!” Elmer wanted to bury himself further into the couch, if that was possible. “Elle.” He groaned into the cushen pressed into his face as an answer. “Coconut or pineapple?”   
“Humph?”  
“Coconut. Or. Pineapple. C’mon, it’s important.”  
“‘Inaple,” he said almost incoherently before retracting into the corner of the sofa, closing his eyes, just for a little rest, drifting off to his boyfriend saying something about how when you eat pineapple it eats you back (?).

When he finally woke up, the room was just as boisterous as when he’d fallen asleep. The lights were too bright, and somehow the noise was too loud and too quiet. He glanced at the clock, preparing to slink off as the two people on top of him (who happened to be two different people than when he drifted off, somehow) groaned and complained. “I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”  
“Aw man, already?” Said a very drunk Jack from on the floor. “Racer went with Kath and Romeo to the market, like, oh I don’t know how long ago, to—”  
“Too long ago, I’m starving—”  
“—to grab some snacks, just thought you should know,” Davey informed him, glaring at the hammered boy on the carpet. Elmer raised an eyebrow. “They were only tipsy, so we made them do the run. Oh, and Spot had to give Romeo a ride home, since he’s the only other person not drinking tonight. And I was left looking after these,” the designated sober gestured to their drunk friends around the room, Albert passes out on the ground. Elmer gave a smile, but it didn’t reach his heart, walking over to his school bag and grabbing his phone charger and a pair of earbuds, waving goodnight to those that saw him leave, and headed down the long hallway.

 

Race loved his friends, but he really did have a big test in Physics the following day, and he knew he should really get some sleep, even if he wasn’t even drunk yet. He stumbled down a hallway (okay, maybe he was a tad drunk) and plopped on the guest bed he and his boyfriends always slept in, before remembering that it was only him and Elmer tonight. He sat up with the intention of taking his shirt off, only to look at the boy he’d landed next to. Elmer was curled up in fetal position with only the top of his dark curls poking out of the comforter. Most would assume that he was asleep, but Race could tell the difference. His breathing was sporadic, his muscles tense, and he started shifting at Race’s presence.   
“Hey,” Race said softly. Elmer groaned in reply before moving his head into his boyfriend’s lap. “Everything okay?” He shook his head, shoving his face into the other’s abdomen. Only then, Race noticed the earbuds in his ears, music blasting too loud be healthy, and understanding dawned on him. 

Years ago, Elmer had tried to explain to him what it was like. The best metaphor he could come up with was watching one of those 3D videos on YouTube before VR headsets were really a thing. Yes, everything was there, but it didn’t feel quite right. Something was just a little off; he colors, the dimensions, the way you can see the tip of your nose, and just, something else that he couldn’t quite figure out. It started around when he was ten; he could barely remember what the world was like before this, only that it simply was. Elmer had always figured that it was a part of growing up until he mentioned it to his therapist.  
Some days were worse than others. Some days, he felt almost normal again. But when he was having a bad day, it felt like he was drifting away. Everything felt wrong. While his sight always was like that, on these days, whenever something touched him, it felt as if there was a latex glove between. Even the biting wind didn’t sting the way it was supposed to.   
On these days, the ones that lasted forever, only the music he would blast into his ears helped, and usually physical touch, but only from a small list of trusted people. Including his then-best-friend-now-boyfriend, Race.   
It was a Monday, freshman year. Race only remembered this because Elmer was usually kinda clingy after their three-day weekends, but this particular day, he’d been even more so. Not that Race minded. He knew that this happened sometimes, since they were in around 5th grade, but that day it had been bad. His best friend was always in contact with him: bumping his shoulder in between class, kicking his legs on his lap when they were at lunch, throwing his arm around the other’s shoulder as a welcome and keeping it there longer than necessary. He was also usually spacing out, looking lost into the distance. They texted that night, and Elmer described it to him. Race couldn’t imagine, but he did what he could to help his boyfriend.

Race put his hand in his lover’s hair, gently brushing his hair back from his face. “Anything specific causing it?” Elmer shook his head, in doing so turing his face up towards the other. “What do you need?” Race asked with concerned. “A kiss?” Elmer asked so quietly Race thought he imagined it for a second before he gave a small smile, leaning over and pressing his lips against the others’. What was supposed to be a peck turned deeper, and Race shifted his body so he was laying on top of the boy. The kiss deeped, but stayed sweet and lazy, as the two relaxed into the bed beneath them. Race’s hand moved up to hold his boyfriend’s face, the other still laying in his hair, while Elmer gently grabbed his waist.   
Some time later, the two were holding each other close, one asleep, when the door opened, and their boyfriends came into the room, Spot practically carrying the other boy. Before setting him on the mattress beside Race. Albert’s shifted, curling up against the other boy and throwing an arm around his torso, his face shoved in the nape of Race’s neck.  
Spot lie down on the other side of Elmer, running a hand down the other boy’s cheek when he turned his head toward him. They shared a chaste kiss after Elmer saw the concerned look on Spot’s face, mouthing ‘later,’ and putting a finger on his lips, gesturing to the sleeping form attached to his side. Spot nodded, placing a single loving kiss on his forehead, sliding closer to the other, intertwining their hands together, before turning off the still-lit lamp next to the bed and placing his head on the pillow, glancing affectionately at the other figures piled on the bed, drifting off with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Depersonalization is something that I deal with a lot, and I find that I have a lot of trouble describing it to anyone when they ask. This was my attempt at trying to word it somehow.


End file.
